My Man
by PiTaBambina
Summary: Buffy's curiosity ignites a fateful recognition and acceptance. Post Not Fade Away


Here's my 1st attempt at fanfic.

All characters belong to Joss Whedon, UPN, WB, and ME.

MY MAN  
by PiTaBambina

I saw him. At first it was just a glance in his direction and vaguely recognizing a familiar looking face. The hair was different. Of, course his hair was always different. Hell, he himself had been different. But, I mean changed. It wasn't platinum anymore. If it was him. I wasn't sure, at first.

I heard the others whisper. That was months ago. Andrew was keeping quiet. That was a first. That's when I knew something was up, and it had to do with me. The whispering was all jumbled; I never could make out what they were saying. "Spike" would pop up now and then. Or, "William". One word (or was it a name?) kept popping up in their private conversations. It was hard to understand what exactly it was they were saying, but it sounded like shawn-shoe. Sometimes I heard it pronounced like Shan-shoe or maybe san-shoe. Whatever it was, I was curious. I went to Giles. At first he hesitated, but then he said he'd look into it. That was two months ago. We don't talk that much anymore. Not since his twisted plan with Principal Wood.

That day, when I saw him, it had been a week since I was notified of Angel's death. Of all things, an old fashioned telegram, anonymous, was sent to me.

**"B. SUMMERS AND THOSE CONCERNED STOP **

**A WAR WAS FOUGHT STOP **

**THE BATTLE IS DONE STOP **

**MIRACLE WE WON STOP **

**SORRY TO INFORM YOU OF THIS STOP **

**ANGEL HAS PASSED STOP **

**MORTAL DEATH STOP **

**ALL QUESTIONS WILL BE ANSWERED SOON STOP " **

Needless to say I was shocked, mortified, heartbroken and so fucking confused. Then I heard the word again; from Giles, to me, on the phone. "Maybe he "Shanshued"?" What is it? What the hell is this word that I can now spell, due to its significance!!?? "The vampire with a soul, once he fulfills his destiny, will "Shanshu"; will live again as his reward." Angel? Spike? Which one? Which one deserves it? Which one do I think deserves it? Which one do I want to deserve it? Angel? Spike? Is that how Angel died? It said it was a mortal death. The telegram said a _mortal_ death. It had to be, because Spike was already dead. He sacrificed himself to save the world. A world he cared about because of Manchester United and Happy Meals on legs. No, that's not right. Because of me and all those I care about, whom he also cared for, though he would never admit it, even with his soul.

He's dead... gone. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust… rest in peace. He has finally found his peace. Then I saw him. His hair was a bit mussed, not much longer than it usually was. And it was dark gray, almost black, with ash blonde tones and highlights. I knew all these details from a few minutes of studying all the variances of colors in the sunlight. He turned his profile towards me. The eyes gave it away. They were blue diamonds. There was his regal nose, soft petal pink lower lip jutting out ever so; and those cheekbones, a dead give away. I cautiously sauntered up to him.

"William?"

He turned to me. He gave me a look that said: "There you are. I've been looking for you." I was speechless. I didn't even notice the wetness on my face until he lifted his left hand to my cheek to dry my tears. His beautiful hand! So soft, so warm.

"How?" I muttered.

"He did it, luv. He won his life. Yet, he couldn't live it. He signed it away. One last act of selflessness before battling the Senior Partners. He gave up his "Shanshu". The Fates, er, the Powers that Be, I guess? They jumped in, gave him his reward anyway, knowing, and not stopping his inevitable death. Fatal injuries and all. He died. They said he is now living his ultimate reward, in Heaven. The place for heroes. "The place you will end up in 40 odd years, William." they said to me. When you die your mortal death.

I looked at him in awe.

They gave me my "Shanshu" as well, luv. But it's not what I thought. "You must live your life worthy of the Slayer." they said. The Slayer, luv. That's you.

Then he did it. His eyes were amber, his forehead wrinkled and his canines extended. He's still a vampire? In the daylight, all warm?

"Always said you needed a little monster in your man. "

And I kissed him.

My man.


End file.
